


For Reunion

by stardropdream



Category: The Musketeers (2014)
Genre: Love Letters, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-01-11
Updated: 2016-01-11
Packaged: 2018-05-13 06:00:32
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 371
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5697646
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stardropdream/pseuds/stardropdream
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Porthos writes letters to Aramis during the war. (post season 2)</p>
            </blockquote>





	For Reunion

**Author's Note:**

> Originally posted on tumblr with the prompt, "Porthos wrote a bunch of letters to Aramis while he was away, always thinking he'd give them to him once the war was over, even if it was wishful thinking meant to keep him grounded more than anything else. Now, however, he gets that chance to and everyone is emotional, the end."

The first letter he had every intention of sending. He wrote it, kept it simple – merely a clarification of what the front was like, where they all were, that they were safe. Nothing too personal. Nothing that he could express better in speech than in written word. His lettering was sloppy, childish, a deep insecurity he never truly spoke of but knew that Aramis would never comment on, either. If anything, Aramis would have told him how beautiful his writing was – and never sound condescending for it. Aramis wasn’t one for platitudes – he felt and thought everything too deeply for that. 

Once the letter was finished, though, he didn’t know where to send it. He sealed it shut, tucked it away. 

A few weeks later, he wrote another. And it went like this: writing letters to Aramis without sending them. Perhaps, an idle thought he’ll give them to him after the war—

And that seed of a thought blossoming into a deep, unsteady need. Letters to give to Aramis after the war. Because, after all, they will survive. They will meet again. They’ll have so many unspoken and unstated things to address. They’ll be together. They’ll reunite. 

It became everything he could hold onto. It was simple like this.

Now, years later, the war officially over, back in Paris where he belongs – and Aramis, the sun in his hair, his smile kind, new crowsfeet at the corners of his eyes that he’ll claim only add character, not age. Claim that Porthos is still the oldest. Claim that it’s good to see Porthos again – and mean that the most. 

Now, he sets those letters in his hands. Bundled up with twine, tied together, oldest letter on top. The first is formal, descriptions of troop movements. The last is anything but. 

He doesn’t realize he’s holding his breath until Aramis looks up from examining the letters and his eyes look distinctly misty. 

“Don’t cry,” Porthos mutters, suddenly embarrassed. Aramis trills out a small laugh, desperate, just the littlest bit manic. Porthos swallows down. “As if I could forget about you out there.” 

If he hadn’t wanted Aramis to give him a watery smile, this was, of course, the absolute wrong thing to say.


End file.
